Maryse Lightwood stood at the window of Magnus Bane's house, not really seeing the landscape beyond it. She was distracted, too distracted to realize that she was shaking all over, and so she was quite surprised to hear a voice behind her say, "I can get you some tea if you're cold."

She turned to find the warlock standing there, looking vaguely concerned. She shook her head. "No, I'm not cold." Which was true enough—she was not physically cold, hadn't been since she had left her cell in the Gard two days ago. Emotionally, however, she felt as though she had stayed too long in icy water. Magnus was not a bad companion; he simply couldn't understand her situation, not really. Besides, she got the impression he didn't like her much, and why should he? What she had done—what they all had done—it was unforgivable. She could hardly blame him if he hated her. Still, she wished she could have someone she loved with her. She knew the Clave didn't trust her and Robert enough to think that they wouldn't somehow try to escape if they were together, but what about Alec? He was currently in an orphanage in Alicante, a thought that caused Maryse a pain that was nearly physical in its intensity. Alec was the whole reason she had stopped fighting, but still she could not see him. Why shouldn't she be allowed to see her own son?

"Because," Magnus said suddenly, with an eerie calm, and Maryse realized with a jolt that she had said that last thought aloud, "you broke the Law. They don't want to trust you with a child."

Maryse turned to him again. "But I never harmed him," she said, in a voice she knew was dangerously close to pleading. "I never involved him in any way with the Circle. I never even brought him to the meetings. I—"

Magnus was looking at her with a strange expression. "I'm curious," he said, "how involved were you in the Circle? You don't seem the type who likes to kill. And the way you look at me, you'd think you had never seen a warlock before."

She looked away, blushing. "I haven't. I never went on any of the raids; Robert did."

Magnus frowned. "Had you ever even seen a Downworlder before the battle?" Maryse didn't answer; she hadn't, actually, having grown up rather sheltered in Idris, and the thought ashamed her. The warlock's voice was full of reproach when he next spoke. "You're like a little girl. Naive enough to believe what you're told despite the fact that you've never even met a Downworlder."

Maryse whirled around to face him. "You don't understand," she said, her voice practically a hiss. She sighed, trying to calm herself down. "You couldn't understand; you've never met Valentine. If you had, you could see it—nobody who met him could ever believe he'd lie to them. But he did." Her voice cracked slightly; even though she had had several days now, the idea still hurt her. "He lied to all of us, and we believed him because the idea that he would lie to us seemed so preposterous, at the time."

His face softened; if Maryse didn't know any better, she might almost have thought that Magnus Bane felt sorry for her. Maryse stared at the floor, not sure what else to say. There was a long silence.

"It doesn't make you a bad person, you know."

Maryse looked up at Magnus in disbelief. "What?"

Magnus came toward her. "Misguided, maybe," he continued. "But not bad. At least, as long as, now that you've seen the lie, you decide not to believe it anymore."

Maryse just stared at him, lost for words. And then, out of nowhere—surprising even herself—she fell forward into the warlock's arms, just as she burst into tears.

Magnus would never understand women.

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